


Evening Mood

by Misterkingdom



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2015-12-03
Packaged: 2018-05-04 19:11:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5345390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misterkingdom/pseuds/Misterkingdom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Are you mad? I’m already considered a traitor in my own country but being caught with an elf will seal my fate—I’d lose my position as an ambassador.” Dorian said. </p><p>“That’s not why you didn’t give it to him. You think he will reject you. It hurts but it’s safe. Writing to want less. You think loving makes you weak. I won’t tell.” </p><p>Dorian sighed and ran his fingers through Cole’s blunt, straw hair. “Let’s pretend that’s the reason. Let’s pretend I’m still the selfish fool I was when I joined the Inquisition and that I’ve never lain with Qunaris and dreamed of elves. Let’s pretend—“</p><p>“—we’re in love.” Cole said.<br/>***<br/>Just a short, random piece of script that I loved but couldn't do any thing with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Evening Mood

**Author's Note:**

> I hate unfinished stuff cluttering my ao3 account so I have created a blog specifically for my unfinished fanfiction. It's [HERE](http://shardsoffiction.tumblr.com/) if you're interested. It'll mostly be a bunch of DA: I and Cole centered.

If their lives were a novel, Dorian Pavus could’ve cleaned Cole’s post-relationship despair with a few meaningful words in about thirteen chapters. Despite the great heights and the killing of a God, they were still humans under indifferent stars and life wasn’t a novel. And now, as he sat fully clothed in the blood warm waters of the bath while watching Cole’s cherry red face as the young man wretched last night’s debauchery into the toilet, he knew they would never fall in love.

Thanks to Bull, Dorian had gotten in the habit of drinking in places that were beneath him. He’d come to prefer the polite amnesia of the taverns instead of the polished castles where everyone knows his name. There was a certain reality in disappearing in the splinter written floors and walls, in the punch-drunk faces of the inhabitants, in the torn dresses of the bards, in the scrim of cigarette smoke. It was a far cry from blinding white and gold walls, bright on purpose to hide nobility’s hideous true face.

Besides a drink is a drink. A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.

He sat at the bar chatting up a young vagrant and enjoying the clean burn of whiskey. The young man was impressionable and undoubtedly interested so Dorian bought him a drink or two. The young man had dark skin and black eyes. He was lean and spoke with a fereledan drawl. His clothes were neat but frayed at the edges—no doubt like the young man’s life. Dorian fantasized about how the man’s lips would register on his and what the young vagrant looked like naked but he wouldn’t pursue it. He’ll just listen to the young man speak.

Dorian saw a hat and a sliver of white gold hair flicker at the edge of his vision. Cole. He’s as bright as a lone firefly in the sea of the unwashed. His arms are crossed and he’s looking down at his feet. He’s slightly rocking and his lips are moving in a one sided conversation. He’s wearing a peasant-beige tunic and black leggings. Dorian would never get used to Cole without his dirty leathers but the more important issue is—what is Cole doing here? At Dorian’s level.

He dismisses the man next to him with a polite goodbye before wading through the sea of the unwashed. It’s near impossible to sneak up on the ~~spirit~~ boy so it’s a thrill to do so. He was almost close enough to smell the sage of the—

“She sang here with a book on her tongue. Telling tales of heroes and villains vying for victory. It always had a happy ending, even when it was sad.”  Cole said. 

“I’ll surprise you one day and it will be such a shock that you’ll have nightmares about it.” Dorian said. “Now, look me in the eyes. Good. I assume the she in that sentence is the beautiful bard Maryden?”

“Yes.”

Dorian didn’t have much of a chance to speak with Cole during the great Skyhold reunion celebration but he’d heard from one of their nosier companions that Maryden and Cole were no longer an item. It was a shame but that’s what first loves do. They leave.

“Ah, I see. I’m sorry to hear of your uncoupling. There are plenty of other fish in the sea.”

“I don’t want fish.”

“It’s a metaphor. It means there are other women out there in the big world who’ll love you and who knows? She might be in this very bar.”

“I don’t want other women. I want her.”

“I know, I know.”

“How do you stop hurting?”

“We’re different. What works for me can be chaos for you.”

“I want to try anything, everything to make it stop.” Cole eyes were glassy with desperation, threating to crumple into tears in the middle of the tavern and while Dorian ignored most of his ~~obedience training~~ _charm school_ etiquette, he knew bursting into tears in the middle of a room was met with an ‘F’.

“Come now, stiff upper lip—this is no way for a hero to behave in public.” Dorian said. “Come with me—you need fresh air.” Dorian took Cole’s sweat-silky hand and led him through the backdoor.

The roofs in Val Royeaux was sugar dusted with snow. The cobblestone streets were a maze of slick ice. The thin air of winter cuts his breathing as the wind blew life into Cole’s cheeks. Cole took a deep breath.

Dorian considered Cole. The boy was human—they even assigned him an age. He was twenty two now though there was a question that begged to be asked: ‘would he follow the laws of nature and age?’ That was a story for another night.—and he was going through the trauma of first love.

“Now, Cole, you are a real boy now, so I suppose I can tell you what I do in such a situation.”

“Yes, thank you.”

Dorian cleared his throat. “Welcome to the Dorian Pavus’ guide to coming to terms with losing a lover. This first round of this method will take all night and involve an irresponsible number of drinks and temporary companionship—the latter we might have to pay for.”

“Lovemaking?”

“Yes. I assume you’ve been well acquainted with that subject by now.”

Cole watched his feet. “She was warm, inside and out. Hot skin against mine, trembling—“

“Didn’t ask.” Dorian said. “But sex isn’t a mandatory part of the Dorian Pavus’ guide to coming to terms with losing a lover, drinking is. Though, let’s get back on track. The third method is to avoid your ex-lover and hide away anything that reminds you of them—that include going to places they used to frequent.”

“Okay.”

“I’m glad you’re paying attention. The fourth rule is to get away from it all, even if it’s just for an hour. Go to places that make you happy or a place you’ve never been before.”

“Liliana sends me a lot of places but I like being here with you. You make me happy.”

“Still disgustingly adorable, I see.” Dorian smiled. “But anyhow, that reminds me of my new fifth rule. It’s a dreadful, cheesy little rule that I’ve picked up in Skyhold.”

“What is it?”

 “It’s to receive hugs, food, and companionship from close friends.” Dorian said. “So—“

Cole’s arms were wrapped tightly around him, almost enough to bruise. The boy’s pointy chin jabbed into the crook of Dorian’s neck. Dorian freed his arm from Cole’s hug to pat the boy on his back.

“It’s going to be alright.” Dorian said. The boy shook with sobs. When Dorian’s shoulder was wet with the triad of spit, snot, and tears, Dorian pulled away and held the boy at arm’s length. “Our first stop will be my hotel room to change and then we start the Dorian Pavus’ guide to coming to terms with losing a lover. Now, Cole, come along. Adventure awaits.”

They were forced into an anonymous, middleclass tavern because every hole-in-the-wall structure reminded Cole of ‘fairytale voice that unleashed a high dragon when she sang’. The bar was a twin of the Herald’s Rest with its three floors of drunks, high rafters and it’s wooden, dry theme. The bard was replaced by a trio of fiddles playing an upbeat, dreadfully Ferelden ‘jig’ that make Dorian’s ears itch. Cole seemed like he was on autopilot—the boy almost climbed the stairs to the attic. Dorian guided him to a small booth and ordered two cups of ale.

Their serving lady was young and too flirty when she came back with the drinks. Dorian filed her a way as an option for Cole later. The boy wrapped his hand around the sweating glass of sick-yellow liquid and watched Dorian with too blue eyes.

“I’ve never drank.”

“It’s about time you did.” Dorian said. “Now sip—“

Cole was coughing up the gulp he took before Dorian finished his sentence. The boy wiped at his lips as spare ale dripped from his shiny lips. Dorian couldn’t help but to laugh.

“You remind me of when I was twelve. My mother gave me my first drink, purely to watch my expression as it singed my tongue.”

“It’s supposed to taste like this?”

“Yes.”  
  
“No.”

“No?”

“I don’t want to drink it.”

“Oh come now, Cole. The Maker doesn’t like a quitter. Remember rule number one: Get disgustingly drunk.”

Cole watched him with a frown before taking a drink. The boy clenched his eyes against the rush of warmth probably flooding his chest and the burn of ale. He turned and watched Dorian with baleful eyes.

“When?”

“When? You must try to finish your sentences.”

“When will I stop hurting?”

“Truth be told, never. Life is dreadful and full of pain from the cradle to the grave. We can only forget the unfairness of life by crawling into these mugs for a couple of hours.” Dorian said. Cole’s eyes were filling up again. Dorian went into crises mode. “But of course, time heals all wounds—including the ones you don’t see.”

“Maryden sang like that but different.” Cole took another sip and shivered before half-humming and partly singing an atonal tune: “ _Goodbye my love, maybe for forever. Goodbye my love, the tide waits for me. Who knows when we shall meet again, if ever but time Keeps flowing like a river to the sea, to the sea._ ”

“I’m going to stop you right there. You are not in compliance with the Dorian Pavus’ Guide to Coming to Terms with Losing a Lover. What did I say about reminders?”

“Hide your love away, making it small and smother it.”

“Something like that.” Dorian said. “Let’s talk about something brighter: What are some of the exotic places you’ve seen in your exciting life as a spy?”

“I traveled with Maryden—“

“Cole.”

“Oh, sorry.” Cole took another sip. It seemed to go down easier for him. “I went to the Emerald Graves again and met a lizard. I followed him into a cave with diamonds in stone, like they were growing on trees. It was good.”

“How majestic. Did it make you happy?”

“Yes, I brought some to Maryden for—“

“Are you even trying?”

“It hurts.”

“Drink faster.”

As the evening crawled on, Cole seemed to calm down. He instead began to talk of his travels, Liliana and his life as a spy. Dorian ordered another round just as they began to talk about the place on top of everywhere. Dorian missed it horribly—it made him a better man. It caused a dull ache in the pit of his stomach. It was almost worth facing Corypheus again to be back there. Cole thought the same and wondered what became of Solas. When the tavern began to blur, Dorian called it quits. Cole was too talkative drunk. Too sentimental.

Dorian cleared his throat. “Now, for companionship. I saw a serving girl who’d been eyeing you when we first walked in here.”

“Does she wear her hair up or down?” Cole slurred too loudly.

“It’s up.”

“Oh. Her father’s name hurts and I don’t know why.” Cole said.

“Now, now, none of that.” Dorian said. “You should go talk to her.”

“No. I’m waiting for her to need me. I hope she never does.”

“I mean talk to her—remember rule number two of Dorian Pavus’ rules of something or another.” His mind had begun to stumble. The drink was stronger than he thought. “Companionship. Yes. That.”

“Lovemaking?”

“Yes but only if you want to. You will have no pressure from me.”

“Does it have to be her?”

“Of course not. Everyone of…in this bar is fair game. Take your pick but be careful not everyone is available.”

“You said everyone in this bar—“

“I’m drunk, Cole. Don’t take me literally.”

“Yes. Can it be you?”

“Can what be me?”  
  
“Can we make love?”

“Ah, how hilarious.” Dorian said before catching a flicker of red hair at the corner of his eyes. “Now shush, I’ll be your wingman.”

As if on cue, their serving girl came back to collect their empty mugs. “Can I get you more ale?”

“No, my fair lady but you could grace us with your company.” Dorian said. Cole watched the woman with a blank expression.

“Father lit the fire to keep you warm. His name was raven and he said he’ll come back but that’s not what ravens do.”

The woman stepped back. “What?”

“He is sorry, in another place, that he died—he didn’t leave you. He would never leave you.” Cole slurred. The woman shrieked as she dropped the mugs. The shattering was muted by jovial voices of the tavern. Dorian wasn’t sure what the consequences were going to be but he knew it was better to leave.

Dorian turned to Cole when they were in the bitter night of Val Royeaux. “When will you learn self-control?”

“She hurts. Maryden said I need to be subtler and I was but now it’s hard because I am…drunk?”

“You most certainly are.”

“I like it.”

“Take care not to like it too much. I can’t imagine an alcoholic with your abilities. It’s frightening.”

Cole chuckled before embracing Dorian again. “I’m happier now. Can I always feel like this?”

“No, but cherish it while it’s here. Don’t think about tomorrow. Just be here, with me, now.” Dorian said. Cole pulled back. He watched Dorian with a blank expression. Dorian’s stomach sank.

“Uh, Cole—“

The boy’s lips were chapped and cold on his. The familiar pressure made Dorian’s stomach flutter. It’s been months since he’s been kissed—being an ambassador was a time consuming, lonely job. He never knew if his prospects to date were secretly spies or enemies. Dorian had been vocal in changing the imperium and it made him no friends—he was important enough to be assassinated now.

Dorian leaned into the kiss and rested his hand on Cole’s lower back. He deepened the kiss to taste nothing but bitter ale in a hot mouth. Cole nipped Dorian’s bottom lip before pulling back.

“Lips on lips, same rush but different than hers.” Cole said. “Dorian. You are beautiful, inside and out. You are a good friend.”

“Cole…are you trying to seduce me?” It’s been two years and sweet, innocent Cole had grown into a man. Dorian shouldn’t be surprised at the advance coming from him.

“You said companionship.”

“I did though this is not a good idea. We’re good friends, and sex between good friends can ruin friendships.”

“You and the Iron Bull are still friends.”

“Yes but we started out with a physical relationship. You and I are friends first.” Dorian sighed. It felt good holding Cole. The boy was sure and steady in his arms. His heartbeat drummed through their connected bodies.

Cole moved it closer and pressed their lips together for the barest moments. He pulled back with a blank expression. “Dizzy with alcohol and desire. Mind aflame. Do you want to fall in love for the night? With me, with her? It’s all the same. Tomorrow will come too soon, hot sun drowning delectable delight. Though remember we don’t have forever, we have tonight.”

“Ah, took a drink from my mind, did you?”

“Did you give the poem to Lavellan?”

“Are you mad? I’m already considered a traitor in my own country but being caught with an elf will seal my fate—I’d lose my position as an ambassador.”

“That’s not why you didn’t give it to him. You think he will reject you. It hurts but it’s safe. Writing to want less. You think loving makes you weak. I won’t tell.”

Dorian sighed and ran his fingers through Cole’s blunt, straw hair. “Let’s pretend that’s the reason. Let’s pretend I’m still the selfish fool I was when I joined the Inquisition and that I’ve never lain with Qunaris and dreamed of elves. Let’s pretend—“

“—we’re in love.” Cole said. He dotted his sentence with a kiss. The boy _was_ seducing him. When did he get so…devious? “We can play with fire, Dorian, because we don’t burn easily.”

He made perfect nonsense.


End file.
